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Fuck up, own up, and then get up.
At ten years old, Jared was my friend. At fourteen, my enemy; at eighteen, my lover; and at twenty, my heartbreak.
“I exist as I am, that is enough.” There were many lines
“You’re the queen,” he reminded me and then plucked the backpack off the ground. “You own this track and every driver on it. He’s ignorant of that fact, so educate him.”
I’m a better man, but there’s never been a better woman for me. There’s never been anyone like you, he texted.
“Challenge accepted, Tatum. This time I don’t want you hurt,” he continued, his breath falling over me as he got in my face, “and I don’t want you small. I just want you. Do you hear me?” He jerked me into his body. “It will be my ring on your finger and my kids in your belly someday.”
“A man who stands in front of a woman does nothing more than block her view. She needs a man standing next to her, so grow up.”
“I’m never letting you go again, Tate,” I whispered, almost desperate. “I’m your friend forever, and if that’s all I get, then that’s what I’m taking, because only when you’re here”—I took her hand and placed it on my heart—“do I feel like my life is worth a damn.”
without you in my life, I’m not happy. For better or worse, you’ve been my other half since I was ten years old, and I can’t imagine a future I’d want without you in it. You’re the love of my life.”
I exist as I am, that is enough. Right there, my quote inscribed over his heart. Happy tears sprang to my eyes. I couldn’t believe it. He’d remembered the poem.
“and there was never any question that he was going to make his way back to you and fight for you sooner or later. What’s important is that you both move on. You’ve got a life to live, memories to make with each other, and babies to have.”
“I only live when I’m with you, and I’m asking for your heart, your love, and your future.” He smiled. “Will you please be my wife?”
“As my friend, I liked you,” I whispered. “As my enemy, I craved you. As a fighter, I loved you, and as my wife”—I slid the ring the rest of the way on—“I keep you.” I squeezed her hand. “Forever,” I promised.
“When you left me the first time, I was devastated,” she said, speaking of when we were fourteen. “And when you left me the second time, I was defiant. But both times I regret,” she admitted, keeping her voice low. “I always fought with you instead of fighting for you, and if I commit to doing one thing differently for the rest of our lives, Jared”—she inhaled a deep breath, steadying her voice—“it would be to make sure you always know that I will fight for you.” She blinked, sending more tears down her cheeks. “Forever.”
